Beautiful Life
by Little Flipendo
Summary: A beautiful life. It's what we all want, it's what we all wish for. In my case though, I didn't get my wish. My life has been a disaster. Only when I met a doctor named Spencer Reid does my life finally take a good turn. Reid/OC.


**Beautiful Life**

**_A Criminal Minds Fanfiction_**

Ro walked down a long hall. It was empty and painted white. Her long red hung now at her shoulders instead of the pixie cut she had always kept it at to keep it out of her way for her line of work. Her face was clear of any makeup. Her bright eyes starred ahead of her, not really taking in the hallway. Her outfit was a pair of orange scrubs and no, she wasn't coming out of surgery. Doctors didn't wear orange scrubs as far as she knew. Her hands were cuffed behind her.

She walked into a questioning room. Dark. That was the first thought that hit her mind. A high level of tension ran through Ro as she stepped for inside the room. She could feel how much had gone on in this room. She could almost feel the previous questioning taking place. The window that acted like a mirror still sat on the wall across from the door and the old table still stood in the middle of the room.

The tall officer escorted her to her chair. Light brown hair, a strong jaw line. He was a determined young man, she could feel it. Most in his field would be. He wouldn't give up anything, Ro noticed from examining his demeanor. She didn't even try to ask what was going on. Most of the officers liked her. She was the quiet one, the one that didn't put up a huge fight. She respected them and gave them an occasional laugh with her sarcastic, witty demeanor.

The officer never met her eyes, and quite frankly, Ro didn't want him too. He wasn't one of the officers that knew her. New officers meant regular feelings toward criminals. Ro didn't want to see the disgust or the hatred his grey eyes held for a criminal like she. She didn't want to see what else lied inside of them. Eyes were the best source to see what a person was truly about.

He never spoke a word, and quite frankly, Ro didn't want him too. She didn't want to hear his tone of voice. She didn't want to hear his guarded tone or the hard edged voice all officers used with girls like her. Tones of voices were another source to hear what a person was truly about.

The man un-cuffed one of her hands then re-cuffed the open handcuff to the table. Ro knew she would not be going anywhere without the table and the chair that was screwed into the floor.

Ro leaned back and waited. No one told her what was going on today. All she knew was that someone was coming to talk to her. No one official had come to talk to her after her first month in jail. She didn't care. She forgot when she was supposed to be getting out. Five years? Ten years? It was a loss to her.

The doors opened then and Ro didn't raise her head to acknowledge whoever walked in. She heard heavy footsteps. Most likely male, tall too. He wasn't skinny, probably fit if he was a cop, though, she had see a number of fat cops.

He came to a rest at the other end of the table. A file was thrown down carelessly in front of her on the table. Manila folder, perhaps. Ro heard the man sit in the other chair across the table and then cross his leg, left over right. He was leaned back in the plastic chair, he was relaxed. He knew he was in control of the situation.

"What do you know about me?" the man asked after a moment of silence. The tone was deep, slightly amused. He was waiting for something, her answer. His tone assured her that he was in fact relaxed.

"You are male, of approximately six feet, one inch. You walk with heavy footsteps that you probably have tried to lighten in the past but failed to do so. You aren't skinny, but not fat either. Probably built, broad shoulders maybe. You threw the file down in front of us carelessly, maybe to show that you intend to act like you know what you are doing. You are relaxed in your seat with your left leg crossed over the other. You are slightly amused but are trying to hide it because you know how my answer would come out. When you were fourteen, I called you my big brother," Ro answered her tone flat, not giving away any hit of emotion, though her eyes glittered at the floor where she stared.

"You've only gotten better, Ro," Derek Morgan said. Ro lifted her eyes. Derek face didn't falter when he saw her eyes. They were different colors, which normally threw people off. The left was gold, warm like honey when she was happy. The right was green, the color of a spring leaf in the shade. He actually missed her eyes. Derek didn't see them often. He was older than she last saw him. His hair was closely shaven, his dark brown eyes were alive with amusement and happy to see and old friend but many questions laid behind them. "But it seems your street smarts have only gotten worse. You've never been the most graceful cat in the ally."

"More graceful than you though," Ro piped. "Not that I'm glad to see an old face, what are you doing here Derek? How did you even know I was back in jail?"

"I check in on the jails around here periodically. I know you would never stray far from home. I had to know if my sister was okay," Derek said, a small frown gracing his lips.

"So kind of you. Now, again, what are you doing here, Derek?" her voice demanding but bored and dead at the same time.

"Aw, can't I just visit you, snowflake?" Morgan asks with a new smile on his face.

"You just don't visit anyone in this room, Der. You have my file, you are here on business."

He laughed. "You've definitely gotten better. I've got an offer for you that involves getting you out of here."

Ro's curiously spiked. "What do you want?"

"Your skills. You are twenty two and as skilled as a seasoned profiler. They want you on the team," Derek said leaning forward onto the table.

"In return?"

Derek smirked. "Your record would be sealed off, it will be like you never had one and you wouldn't have to do any more time than you already have. You'd get out of here today."

"Why do they want me on the team? Don't they have enough of you?" Ro asked, showing a hit of confusion on her freckled face.

"We need another team member. It's that simple," Derek explained simply. "You're great, a little ungraceful, but nothing we can't handle."

"Oh thanks Der, you totally make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Your words just makes me want to jump up and work for the FBI," Ro said, a heavy sarcastic tone to it.

"Tell me this, Ro, do you really want to stay in jail? Instead of out in the world? Breathing in the fresh air? Eat actual food? Live your life the way your mother would have wanted?" he asked. Ro visibly flinched when he mentioned her mother but he did nothing to stop. "You want to continue your life in here? You won't get out for a while, snowflake. Baby girl, do you want to become somebody's bitch in here?"

"Can't, you're already my bitch," she said, recovered from her flinch.

"Oh girly. How I've missed that mouth of yours," Derek laughed.

"Bet you have. It's in short stock these days. Most say I got the last one," Ro joked with him.

"So whatcha say, baby girl? Come work with me?" Derek asked one last time, a black eyebrow raised and the red head in front of him.

Ro sat back against her chair, her determined look in her gold and green eyes. Thoughts bounced around in her head as she debated her answer.


End file.
